Risking the Shot (Stick Side Book 4)

by Amy Aislin

  It was a weird juxtaposition—he wore his emotions on his sleeve, but the rest of him was closed up tight.

  From Dakota’s perspective, Tay’s evasiveness was colored with shades of Fiona. Was Tay hiding something he didn’t want Dakota to know about? Why couldn’t Dakota be attracted to people who were better at sharing? Not that he expected Tay to pull a Fiona and make all sorts of plans, then leave him without a word.

  Was there something about Dakota that made it difficult for people to open up to him? As the oldest of five kids, he’d often played the role of sounding board for his brothers, but that was family. Was he unapproachable?

  That was a puzzle for later. First, he had to get a certain four-year-old to bed. He patted Andy’s hip. “Up. Say goodnight to Uncle Calder. It’s bedtime.”

  “No.” Dropping the cupcake, Andy tucked his face in Dakota’s chest, getting icing on Dakota’s apron. “Ten more minutes.”

  Dakota hugged him close, inhaling the scent of baby shampoo and sugar. At some point in the not-so-distant future, Andy wouldn’t want spur-of-the-moment hugs from him anymore, wouldn’t beg to spend ten more minutes with his dad. It made him sad how quickly time was passing, but at the same time, he looked forward to the day when Andy was self-sufficient and Dakota could get a little bit of his time back.

  Talk about juxtapositions.

  “Nope.” He tickled Andy’s ribs, making him giggle. “You already got ten more minutes. Three times!” Slinging him over his shoulders, Dakota headed upstairs, Andy squealing the whole way. Once he was clean of cake crumbs and icing and snuggled into bed, books read, Dakota tucked Helix into Andy’s arms and shut off the light, leaving the door half-open.

  “Dad.” Andy’s sleepy voice stopped Dakota in the doorway.

  “Yeah?”

  “D’you think Tay’ll let me read his comic book?”

  “I don’t know, buddy. Why don’t you ask him on Saturday?” And let me know what he says, he was tempted to add. I want to read it too. “Night, Andy. Love you.”

  “Love you, Daddy.”

  Downstairs, Calder was still in the living room, nursing a tumbler of scotch. A second tumbler sat untouched right next to Dakota’s garnishes.

  Picking up the drink, Dakota sat next to his cousin and eyed the cupcakes he still needed to finish. Leaving it for the moment, he turned to Calder. “Are we doing this?”

  “We’re doing it.” Pulling the laptop closer, Calder moved the cursor over Publish, grinning like a maniac. “Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  He hit the button. Once Upon a Time Cakes’s website was officially a go.

  Anna: Did you order Mom’s cake yet?

  Tay: I’m on it!

  He was on nothing. Tay sat in the locker room minutes before game time and stared at his sister’s text in horror.

  Shit. He’d totally forgotten to order the cake for his mom’s birthday party.

  Also, he really needed to stop checking his phone right before a game. Nothing good ever came of it.

  The good news was that he still had a couple of weeks until the party. He’d talk to Dakota about placing a cake order tomorrow.

  Shit. His mom hadn’t outright said it at dinner last night, but she clearly thought he’d taken on too much. She might be right. He had a bad feeling that something would give sooner rather than later. Either he’d forget something right before a deadline that he couldn’t fix, or he’d fuck up during a game because he was too tired to concentrate, or he’d say something he shouldn’t to the wrong person.

  No, no. He could do this. One more month in the regular season, one more month of classes.

  Except he’d be starting classes all over again in early May. And not just two this time, but four. A full-time student gig. The realization made him want to cry. Gritting his teeth, he put his phone back in his backpack, in the inside pocket with Andy’s puzzle piece. The sight of it lightened some of the weight on his shoulders, drained some of the tension out of his neck.

  Could he drop everything, just for a little while, and go snuggle on the couch with Dakota while Andy made puzzles? Okay, not everything. Not hockey. Everything else, though? It could take a hike.

  His phone lit up again as he was halfway to standing, and he caught the message from Anna even though he tried not to look.

  I’m sending you extra items for Gran’s grocery list. Don’t forget to drop these off tomorrow after your practice. Thanks.

  Tay scoffed. As if he’d forget to bring Gran her groceries, jeez.

  From now on he was turning off his phone as soon as he arrived at the arena.

  His teammates were either teasing and ribbing each other or were going through whatever pregame ritual helped them focus. Tay didn’t have a ritual, never had. Hockey players were generally a superstitious lot, but not Tay. Whether he ate a Halloween-sized Kit Kat like Dean, stretched his quads a certain way like Collet, or listened to show tunes like Stanton, it didn’t matter, although he did give the puzzle piece a rub between two fingers for luck. Just in case. And there was the chocolate he shared with Stanton at away games, but that didn’t count. It was just for fun. Really, it was all about being mentally and physically prepared to face your opponents on the ice.

  And today’s opponents—Tampa—were at the top of their game. First in the division. Tay’s team had to bring it or they’d get flattened.

  And brought it they did.

  The crowd was insane. Tay wouldn’t normally notice it, but there were twice as many pride flags waving as there normally were. Tampa’s Ashton Yager was in the house tonight, and he brought a slew of fans wherever he went. The first out player in NHL history had quite the following. Didn’t matter that others had followed in his footsteps. Didn’t matter that Toronto had its own gay NHL icon. Yager had been the first.

  Yager was bisexual, like Tay, which Tay secretly thought was all kinds of awesome. He’d offer to buy Yager a drink—hell, all the drinks—and pick his brain if Yager didn’t intimidate the shit out of him. Oh sure, on TV the guy was all let me be your best friend. But on the ice? A fucking monster. As tall as Dean, but with wider shoulders, and that was saying something because Alex Dean was fucking jacked. During a game, Yager got this look on his face that was all narrowed eyes, clenched jaw, teeth bared in a grimace.

  Dude was scary.

  At the start of overtime, Tay had already battled it out with him for the puck more than once, and he had the battered shoulders to prove it. Yager was very, very good at ramming people into the boards. Asshole.

  Grinning, stick clutched in both hands, Tay stood at center ice, ready for the face-off. They were tied 3–3 and they had five minutes to win this thing. Nobody liked a shootout less than hockey players.

  Coach Dabrowski put him on the ice with Grey—one of their fastest forwards—and Dean and Lacroix—their best defense.

  Sweat dripped down his temple. Tay blinked it out of his eye. The puck dropped, Tay winning the draw and passing it back to Grey, who spun around an approaching Tampa player and skated past him. By that time, Tay was already halfway to Tampa’s net, thigh muscles screaming. Grey’s pass to him bounced off the tip of an opposing player’s stick. Tay caught up to it near the boards. Bad angle. Instead of attempting to score, he passed it back to Grey, dead ahead, and Grey slid the puck home through the five-hole.

  The goal horn blared across the arena. Pride flags waved. If Tay wished some of those were for him, that was something to think about later.

  Later, it turned out, was an hour later at Dean and Grey’s. They’d invited Yager—a close friend of Dean’s from when Dean had played for Tampa years ago—and his boyfriend Dan—who was also Grey’s older brother—over for drinks.

  Dean and Grey’s kitchen was decently sized. For the two of them. Add three extra guys and it was a maze, trying to get around everyone.

  “We’ve got beer, beer, and beer,” Dean said, retrieving various local brews from the fridge and setting them on the island.


  Yager groaned and deposited his large frame onto a barstool. “Please tell me you have food.”

  Grey picked up a plastic bag from the floor. “Ordered Chinese and picked it up on the way back.”

  “Thank God. Feed me.”

  Yager and Dan had gone back to the hotel to change into more casual clothes after the game. They were both in jeans and long-sleeved T-shirts, but Dan’s seemed more . . . high-fashion? His jeans were dark and pressed, his sweater had a designer label sewed at the hem, and with his blond evening scruff shadowing his jaw and the curly blond hair, he looked like a superstar next to Yager’s loose jeans with the hole at the knees and plain gray sweater.

  Tay grabbed plates from a cupboard and gestured at Grey. “Pass me one of those containers and I’ll take it upstairs.”

  “What?” Grey scowled at him. “Why? You don’t like us?”

  “I have to finish a reading for class.”

  “Do that tomorrow.”

  But he’d already committed to spending tomorrow afternoon with Dakota and Andy. And he was trying to get ahead on his reading assignments. Next week they had a series of home games, but then after that they were on the road for a week—Florida, North Carolina, DC, Winnipeg—and he was hoping not to bring too much schoolwork with him. Traveling always wiped him out, making it impossible to study.

  “Yeah, stick around,” Yager said, reaching for the carton Grey held out to him.

  “Don’t listen to these assholes.” Dan came around the island to fetch a glass, knowing exactly where to go. Clearly he’d been here before and felt right at home. “You do you. What are you studying?”

  Tay dumped chicken and rice onto his plate. “Paramedicine.”

  “Whoa.” Yager blinked at him. Dare Tay say he looked impressed? “That’s hardcore.”

  “Must be challenging, though,” Dan said. “Making college balance with hockey.” As Yager’s partner, he was no doubt intimately familiar with the demands on a hockey player’s time.

  “He’s always reading his textbook or working on some assignment or another,” Dean said. He grabbed a couple of the remaining cartons in one hand, his plate in the other, and headed for the dining room table.

  “His textbook’s so interesting too,” Grey said, following his husband into the dining room. He was back a second later to fetch their beers. “It’s all about genetics and the molecular techniques involved in cellular processes.”

  “Interesting.” Dan blinked at his brother. “Not the word I’d use.” To Tay, “No offense.”

  “Trust me, none taken,” Tay said, laughing. It was interesting if you were into it.

  Tay wasn’t into it.

  God, it felt good to admit that to himself. He’d been dancing around it for months. Not that he had any idea what to do about it, though.

  “Uh, Yager?” Tay said when Dan had joined Dean and Grey in the dining room.

  “It’s just Ash,” Yager said, twisting the cap off a beer bottle like the he-man he was. “What’s up?”

  “Uh . . .” Where did he start? What did he even want to ask? “I’ve been, um . . .” Cutting his gaze to the left, to where he could see the others at the dining room table in the gap between the countertop and the bottom of the cabinets, he lowered his voice. “I’ve been thinking about, maybe, coming out? Publicly, I mean. The team already knows. And . . .” He faltered, unsure where he was going.

  “And you want my advice?”

  “No. More like . . .” Pushing food around on his plate, Tay blew out a breath. “Is it worth it?”

  “You know, every single hockey player who’s come out since I did has called me for advice before they did so. Even your guy Stanton.” Yager sipped his beer straight from the bottle unlike his boyfriend. “None of them ever asked me that question.” Elbow on the island, he let the bottle dangle from his fingers. “Truth is, my coming out was an accident. Long story,” he added with a small chuckle when Tay’s mouth dropped open. “But it was an accident. If that hadn’t happened, I’d probably still be in the closet. I’m glad I’m not, though.” His brown-eyed gaze drifted to Dan, smile turning soft and mushy, as though he couldn’t believe what a lucky son of a bitch he was.

  God. Tay was dying for someone to look at him that way. Like he was their everything. His thoughts went to Dakota and all the potential there, and he bit back a smile.

  “There’s got to be more than the eight or ten NHL players who are currently out,” Yager continued. “I’m one of the lucky ones who doesn’t have to hide. I can bring Dan as my date to fundraisers, I can kiss his cheek at a restaurant, I can put my arm around him at a ball game, I can hold his hand when we take walks.”

  That. Yes, to all of that. Tay’s breath caught imagining it all, imagining all of the possibilities. He’d never hated not being able to hold someone’s hand more than he had on his date with Dakota. With the streetlights casting halos on the newly fallen snow, and the empty sidewalks, and the gorgeous atmosphere, he’d wanted nothing more than to thread their fingers together, to feel the skin of Dakota’s palm against his own. To tell the world that they were together.

  “So, yes, to answer your question.” Yager stood, plate in one hand, beer in the other. “It was worth it. But that doesn’t mean anything. You have to decide if it’s worth it for you. If it’s a risk you’re willing to take.”

  With that parting shot, he joined his friends at the table.

  Tay would be willing to risk it in a hot second. A stable, committed relationship like the ones between the two couples to his left? It was the one thing in the world he’d trade his hockey career for.

  But it wasn’t just about him. He had Dakota and Andy to think about too and, more practically, his sponsorships.

  Letting it go for the night, he added the last of the fried rice onto his plate and joined the guys in the dining room.

  The campervan had been easy. This gigantic castle with its seven turrets was a pain in Tay’s ass. Flopping onto his back, arms and legs every which way, Tay groaned. “It’s evil, Andy. Evil!”

  Forty pounds of giggling Andy, once again in his signed jersey, dropped on Tay’s stomach. “It’s gonna be pretty when it’s done.”

  “You have a point.” Tay just wasn’t sure it was worth it. No wonder Dakota hated these things. He’d promised, though, so he heaved himself up and found Dakota leaning against the doorway, an expression on his face that Tay could only classify as content. “Hey. Want to join us?”

  “Yeah, Daddy, join us.”

  Dakota peered around Tay at the one corner of the castle they’d been able to complete, and at the remaining seven hundred or so remaining pieces in the box and scattered around them. “I’d rather not.”

  “Aw.” Tay pouted.

  “I was thinking of getting out of the house for a bit. Anyone want to go to the zoo? It’s nice out.”

  Tay and Andy shared a glance, perking up.

  “Me!” Andy was up and running down the hallway before Tay could blink. “Me! I wanna go to the zoo. Let’s go, Daddy. Tay, hurry.”

  Standing more slowly, Tay sidled up to Dakota, slipped his arms around his waist, and kissed his chin. He smelled woodsy and fresh, with a slight hint of fried food, owing to the chicken nuggets and fries they’d had for lunch.

  “It’s Saturday,” Dakota had said with a shrug when Tay arrived just after noon. “We don’t really do fancy.”

  Although he had made Tay roasted vegetables and brown rice too, knowing that he needed a balanced diet and that chicken fingers and fries—while a delicious indulgence—would only keep Tay full for five minutes.

  Snuggling into him, Tay nosed his way up Dakota’s jaw and kissed the corner of his mouth. They’d texted all week, but this, the casual touching and spending time together? Nothing beat that. The only thing that came close was the goal horn echoing throughout the arena when they’d beat Tampa in overtime last night.

  “The zoo?” he asked.

  Dakota grunted, leaning down to kiss Tay
’s collarbone. Goosebumps exploded across the back of Tay’s neck, tingling all the way down to his toes.

  “I thought we weren’t going to do this in front of Andy yet.”

  Another grunt from Dakota. “You started it.” Taking a small step back, he glanced over his shoulder. Tay looked past him, at Andy, in the foyer tugging on his boots. He wasn’t paying them any attention, but kids weren’t stupid—he’d catch on before Dakota was ready if they weren’t careful.

  Dakota stepped forward, into Tay, backing him up until they were in the middle of the living room, out of Andy’s line of sight should he look up. “Is it bad that I want to tell him just so I can kiss you in my own house?”

  “No.” Tay’s hands found the waist of Dakota’s jeans and he hooked his fingers in the belt loops. “But it’s impulsive. And you’re not impulsive.”

  “Not normally.” A kiss landed on Tay’s nose. “But you make me want to be.”

  Tay chewed the inside of his cheek. “Is that a bad thing?”

  “No. I don’t think anything about you could ever be bad.”

  Tay had to kiss him for that.

  “Unless you hate zoos,” Dakota teased, whispering the words against Tay’s mouth, arms coming around his waist. “Then we might have to talk.”

  “Daddy. Tay.” Andy’s voice from down the hall had them moving apart. “I wanna see the capbras.”

  Following Dakota down the hall, Tay said, “The what now?”

  “Capybaras,” Dakota said over his shoulder.

  That cleared up nothing. What the hell was a capybara?

  A rodent commonly found in South America, according to the sign in front of its enclosure. The largest in the world. Didn’t look like any rodent Tay had ever seen. It sort of reminded him of a small hippo but with a snout-like face. Not like an elephant snout, more like an anteater snout but not as pointy. Except it also kind of looked like a giant chipmunk.